Ever So Sweet Prologue
by Ohhidear
Summary: Addison is a wreck. Ever since Christofer left, she's not herself. As she remembers the day he left, her self destructive tendencies grow worse. Will anything save her before it's too late?


I still remember the day you left. After everything I've done, it's hard for me to remember much of anything. But I still see this night clearly in my head. I see it when I close my eyes, while I'm looking out of a window, whenever I'm alone, I see it. I remember walking through the door to _our _apartment. It was empty. It was silent. I didn't hear you laughing at the TV or strumming on the guitar in the bedroom. I didn't hear you getting frustrated at a piece of paper or cooking something delicious in the kitchen as you sang your favorite song. I came home to silence.

_Maybe he's just out_. I thought to myself, but I knew better. You always made sure I came home before you went anywhere. You always took me with you. Still, I checked every drawer, opened every closet, checked every inch of the apartment, looking for a sign that you even once existed here, but I find nothing. I don't find your laughter, the smile you had on your face when I woke up in the morning and you were still dreaming, the way you'd hold me when I was upset. It was all gone. You were gone. You didn't just take your stuff, you took a piece of me. You took everything that belonged to you, including my sanity. This place feels empty. I feel empty without you here.

I don't know why you left, and I doubt that I ever will. You left no note. You never called. When I tried to call you, your number had been changed. But I continue to call, day after day, week after week, just in case I get another chance to hear your voice. Why did you leave me? Did you stop loving me? Did you ever love me? Why did you leave me when I needed you most? I was there for you whenever you fell apart, but you just couldn't do the same for me. You ran away, like you always do. You're a coward: always afraid of something changing. Nothing's ever been the same since you left. My old habits came back, a million times worse than before. You did this knowing the consequences. You aren't stupid. You knew what I do, but you were selfish and went away.

I'm sitting on the curb outside of the elementary school where we first met. We were 6 years old. I was eating my peanut butter and jelly sandwich; you were drawing stick figures in the sand with a stick. Both of us were sitting far away from the other snotty nosed kids. That's how it happened. We were both different, but the same as each other. It was perfect. We were perfect.

I light my last cigarette and rest my head on my knees. I'm so lost and insecure without the safety of your arms around me. I look up and I see you, but you aren't real. You're a ghost, standing in the street. Even though I know you are nothing but a figment of my imagination, I can't help but speak up. I stare at your shadowy form; you stare at my frail body. You're a walking ghost, but, then again, so am I. That is what you made me. My eyes no longer sparkle, my lips never smile, my hands refuse to write, and voice just cannot sing. Christofer is gone, and I have become lifeless.

"Where have you been?" I ask, longing for an answer, to hear your beautiful voice, but you say nothing as you vanish with the wind. I sit there for a few more minutes, hoping you will return, but you don't. You never do. I feel the tears forming in my eyes as I stand and walk down the street towards the same apartment you used to call home. I pass a few old friends' houses on the way. I haven't talked to them in ages. They won't answer my calls or come to the door when I knock, no matter the situation. They gave up on me after you had been gone a month. I don't blame them. I would have given up on me to.

I walk up the concrete stairs till I reach the fourth floor. I open the unlocked door to the apartment. I never lock it. I don't care if someone comes and robs me. The material things here don't matter. Honestly, I wouldn't care if someone came inside to murder me. I'm practically dead already. I go to the bedroom that I sleep in alone. I lay on your pillow and breathe in the lingering scent of your cologne and fall asleep to the nightmares you left to haunt me.


End file.
